


Sticks And Stones

by writesometimes



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Precious Pirate Boyfriends, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-21 22:48:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8263213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writesometimes/pseuds/writesometimes
Summary: Silver's face flushed and he looked away, ashamed. It hit Flint then. Silver blamed himself. Of course he did. Someone else shot him, so naturally Silver felt the burden of guilt. Flint would have laughed maniacally if it weren't for the stitches.





	1. Chapter 1

The weather in Kingstown was pleasant enough. The oppressive heat and humidity had lifted and a soothing breeze graced the island with its presence. Flint and Silver weren't entirely familiar with Kingstown, so they were attempting to lie low while re-supplying the ship. But the weather was enjoyable enough that they strolled leisurely through alleyways, no destination in particular to hurry to.

A breeze kicked up and blew Silver's curls in every direction. Flint would have given anything to capture the moment forever. Sensing his Captain's eyes on him, Silver came to stop and turned to look at Flint.

"We could always give it all up. Assume false names. Buy a farm here," Silver suggested with a smirk.

Flint squinted his eyes against the bright sunshine, watching Silver carefully, a small scowl on his face. Silver didn't squirm under the scrutiny though, the exchange all too familiar to the Quartermaster at this point.

"You want to shovel horse shit with me at five o'clock in the morning?" Flint grit out.

"Not on your life," Silver chuckled.

Flint laughed quietly and started walking again. Silver followed dutifully. The hammering sounds of a nearby blacksmith caught Flint's attention. They would need to speak to someone about their weaponry while they were ashore. The Captain picked up his pace and searched the area for the blacksmith.

The small shop Flint and Silver stumbled upon didn't seem too busy. Flint asked an apprentice out front for the owner, and waited for the man to emerge. Loud voices in the back of the shop made Flint and Silver exchange concerned glances.

The shop apprentice stumbled out suddenly, eyes wide. "He says he won't take any commissions from you," the young man explained shakily.

"Why the fuck not?" Flint demanded, hand immediately going to the hilt of his sword at his hip.

The apprentice glanced back to the door that lead into the shop. "Says he wants nothing to do with 'Captain Flint' or 'Long John Silver'. You need to leave."

Silver's face went slack. He and Flint had taken painful measures to conceal their identities when they'd made port. How had anyone found them out?

As if on cue, the apprentice spoke up. "That _is_ who you are, isn't it? Everybody's talking about it." Flint leveled a stare at the young man that had terrorized many a soul before.

"If we were, why on Earth would we admit it?" Silver challenged condescendingly.

The young man seemed to ponder the question. Flint, however, was already tired of their game. "Your boss hasn't even seen or spoken to us, yet he's willing to refuse us service based on rumor?" the Captain grit through his teeth.

"All he told me was to turn you away," the apprentice said in a panic.

Silver could feel the anger coming off his Captain. It would simmer only a moment longer before it got truly out of hand.  "We can take our business elsewhere," he reasoned, laying his hand on Flint's shoulder.

It was then the blacksmith emerged in the doorway. The man was large, seemed to fill the entire doorway. Silver swallowed thickly. "I want nothing to do with Captain Flint, pirates, pirate weapons, or pirate whores," the man said pointing at Silver.

Honestly, Silver was ready to laugh it off. If, in Kingstown, 'Long John Silver' was no more than a 'pirate whore', what did he care? Hell, some of the smartest people he knew were whores. Unfortunately, Flint was unable to find the humor in the situation.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Flint spat out.

"I said, take your whore, go back to your ship, and leave my shop alone."

Silver closed his eyes and suppressed the groan that so desperately wanted to tear through his body and escape his lips. Kingstown had been so pleasant. Now, they'd never be able to return.  
Flint drew his sword dramatically, immediately ready for combat.

"No need to defend my honor, let's just go," Silver whispered desperately in Flint's ear. His words fell on deaf ears. Flint had already decided, someone was going to bleed here today. Silver sighed deeply, already exhausted by his Captain's temper.

A loud 'bang' pulled Silver from his irritated mental diatribe. The blacksmith stood, pistol still smoking in his hand. Flint staggered backward into Silver. Flint hadn't even truly engaged the man, he had no right to just up and shoot him. Silver's eyes went wide in disbelief. "What the fuck?" he shrieked. His voice sounded foreign to his own ears. Flint slumped against Silver fully now, slowly losing his battle with gravity. Silver saw blood blooming through Flint's shirt on his chest.

' _Son of a bitch, son of a bitch. Goddamnit. Not now Captain_ ,' ran through Silver's head at a dizzying speed.

Without much thought Silver drew his own pistol and shot the blacksmith in the knee, ensuring he couldn't come after he and Flint. Then he began dragging Flint as best he could away from the area.

"Jesus Christ, Flint, talk to me," Silver demanded wildly. Flint groaned and leaned his head back to look at Silver. The breeze had again stirred up the Quartermaster's curls. Flint raised a hand, trying to capture the swirling strands. Silver kept struggling to drag his Captain, praying for some kind of miracle that would allow them to escape.

Silver had apparently tried god's patience one too many times, for as he rounded a corner he spied Billy Bones and Ben Gunn strolling down the alley together.

' _Of all the crew, it had to be Billy. Perfect_ ,' Silver thought in a panic.

But he was surprised when Gunn nudged Billy in the ribs and they both came rushing forward to assist their Quartermaster and Captain.

"What the fuck happened?" Billy asked frantically.

Flint groaned loudly as Billy took his torso, Ben his legs, and they lifted him off the ground.

"Later, I'll explain it all later. We need to get him to Howell. _Now_ ," Silver barked as he ran his hands through his hair, trying to hide the fact that they were shaking.

Billy nodded sternly and the group hurried through the alleyways back to the shore. They found one of their launch boats easily enough, and Billy instructed Silver to climb in first. He and Ben then placed their Captain in, head resting in Silver's lap. Billy hopped in then, Ben launched the boat then jumped in himself, and they were off.

Silver didn't even offer to row. The need to propel the small boat forward completely forgotten to him. Flint was sprawled out in Silver's lap but still hadn't uttered a single word. Silver carefully peeled back the layers of clothing atop Flint's fresh gunshot. The wound gaped back sadistically, mocking Silver's inability to _do_ anything for his Captain.

"Flint, for Christ's sake, say something," Silver pleaded.

"We'll never own land in Kingstown now," Flint grit out smartly.

Silver could have tossed the man overboard. Lucky for Flint, Billy again asked what had happened back in town. Silver was pulled from his dazed irritation and somehow managed to string enough words together to explain their encounter with the blacksmith. Quickly, the _Walrus_ came into view, and Silver let out a sigh of relief.

* * *

Getting Flint aboard was it's own challenge, one that Silver could barely recall. One minute they were in the small boat, the next they were aboard the  _Walrus_ hunting down Howell. Silver scrambled as quickly as he could around the deck, frantically calling for the doctor.

Howell emerged from below deck, stunned look on his face. "What's going on?" he asked groggily.

"Flint. He's been shot," Silver spat out.

Just then Billy and Ben appeared behind their frantic Quartermaster, carrying a wounded Flint. "Take him below deck, to the medical table," Howell instructed.

Bill and Ben were off quickly. The weight of the situation hit Silver in full force then. He couldn't move. He felt simultaneously as if his legs were made of lead and that he would float away at any moment. This couldn't be real.

"Quartermaster," Howell's voice cut through Silver's haze, "Are you coming?" the doctor nodded to the stairs leading below deck.

Silver swallowed thickly, eyes darting all about the ship. Finally, he nodded and made his way slowly down the stairs. Billy and Ben had already laid Flint out on Howell's large medical table, the pair sharing uneasy glances. Silver took a deep breath, trying to stay in the moment and not drift back to his own hell, when he'd been the one laid out on the very same table, in agonizing pain. He couldn't fall apart now. His Captain needed him. His crew needed him.

"I'll, uhm, need room to work," Howell stated seriously.

Billy and Ben cleared out quickly, but Silver couldn't move. "I won't leave him," the Quartermaster choked out.

"Then you'll need to help," Howell stated as he inspected Flint.

Silver hobbled over to a stool near the head of the medical table and watched as Howell divested the Captain of his coat and shirt. The gunshot reared its nasty head once more. All the breath fled Silver's lungs at once. The wound was large, vast amounts of Flint's blood seeped out of it. Silver had seen Flint wounded before, but it was somehow different now. With everything the men now shared, the intimate nature of their relationship, the situation became terrifying.

Flint moaned when Howell began inspecting the wound in earnest, poking about with his medical tools. Silver's hands shot up immediately and grabbed Flint's hand that dangled off the medical table. He brought it to his lips and began a silent prayer.

"Water," Flint rasped.

Silver shot up, but Howell's hand landed on his shoulder, and he plopped back down onto the stool. Howell wandered off to the corner of the room and fetched a cup from a clean bucket of water. Silver took the cup from him in a rush. Carefully, he tilted Flint's head up so he could drink.

"That'll have to do for now. I need to get the bullet out," Howell grimaced. Silver nodded briskly and laid Flint's head back on the table.

Howell got to work immediately digging the bullet from the Captain's chest. Flint's face twisted in pain, a loud moan escaped his lips. Silver held his breath and squeezed Flint's had. Flint squeezed back with all the strength he still possessed. At last, Howell found the bullet and told Silver to hold Flint's shoulders down as he extracted it. Silver stared up at Howell in disbelief.

"Please, Silver, I need to work quickly. He's bleeding quite a bit."

Silver felt his stomach twist around itself as he stood and grabbed each of Flint's arms. He leaned down with all his weight, face hovering upside-down above Flint's. "I'm sorry," he sobbed quietly to his Captain.

Howell pulled the bullet out swiftly, Flint yelled loudly through his teeth, and Silver laid his forehead to Flint's. The Captain's breath came in uneven bursts. Silver caressed his jaw. Howell said something about stitches, but it didn't fully register with Silver. Flint opened his eyes, and was now staring into Silver's own blue ones. The Quartermaster's world righted itself once more.

* * *

After the stitching was completed, Billy and Ben were once again summoned to carry their Captain to his cabin. They quickly deposited him into his bed and told Silver to call if he needed anything before scurrying out together. Flint was propped up on every pillow he had, his skin even more pale than usual.

Silver stood awkwardly in the center of the room, eyes scanning over Howell's neat stitches on Flint's chest. His stomach knotted again, threatening to empty itself.

"Stop staring at me like I'm some caged bird," Flint rasped from his mountain of pillows.

Silver chewed his lower lip and headed over to the Captain slowly. He stopped at the bedside. Flint reached out weakly and grabbed Silver's hand, studied his face intently. Silver looked distraught and near tears. Flint tugged at his hand, trying to coax him onto the bed.

"Howell said you should rest," Silver whispered, trying to pull away from Flint.

The Captain groaned and rolled his eyes. "You won't break me if you climb into bed. For fuck's sake I get shot defending your honor and you're still stubborn as hell."

Silver's face flushed and he looked away, ashamed. It hit Flint then. Silver blamed himself. Of course he did. Someone else shot him, so naturally _Silver_ felt the burden of guilt. Flint would have laughed maniacally if it weren't for the stitches.

"Silver," Flint waited for a response but got none. "John," he whispered insistently.

Silver looked up and met Flint's gaze.

"This is not your fault. _You_ didn't shoot me," Flint soothed.

Silver smiled apologetically. " _You_ didn't have to defend me though. We could have just left. Some asshole calling me names is hardly worth a gunshot," Silver stated meekly.

Flint brought his and Silver's hands to rest in his lap. His face became quite serious. He nodded for Silver to sit, and the man did. "I know it was just name calling, but I failed to defend the people most important to me before. Now they're gone. It all starts with nasty words. Then it becomes despicable actions. Then people get hurt and I can't..." Flint didn't get to finish.

Silver leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. "Don't. Not now. You can't go down that path now. I'm here. You're here. Everyone's all right. You need to rest," he whispered.

Flint's eyes drifted closed and he leaned back against his numerous pillows. Silver cupped his face, brushing his cheekbone with his thumb. "Stay? Rest with me?" Flint implored tiredly.

Silver nodded as he curled up beside Flint in their bed.

* * *

Hours later Silver awoke to Flint carding his fingers through his unruly curls. He smiled warmly at his Captain and slowly sat up.

"Hungry?" Silver asked through a yawn.

Flint hummed. "I could eat. As long as you're not the one cooking. Where the bullet failed your food would succeed."

"All right, asshole, I'll go get us some dinner," Silver chuckled.

Once outside their cabin, Silver's face broke into an elated grin. If Flint was _already_ being a cantankerous bastard, he'd surely make a full recovery. Silver laughed to himself and headed toward the kitchen. The crew had gathered for dinner, and everyone's heads raised to stare at Silver as he walked into the dining quarters.

"How is he?" Billy called seriously from somewhere to Silver's left.

Silver found him in the crowd and smiled warmly. "He's already being a prick and demanding food. He'll make it."

To Silver's genuine surprise everyone, including Billy, seemed relieved. Ben leaned over and whispered something in Billy's ear that caused the man to smile at the new crewman. "Ben made sure to save you and Flint some dinner. Says it's back in the kitchen."

"Thanks," Silver muttered, a little confused as to Ben's sudden shyness and Billy's odd complacency.

As he passed Billy and Ben on his way to the kitchen, he noticed their hands resting near one another on the bench they shared. Their fingertips brushing delicately.' _Oh_!,' Silver exclaimed mentally, ' _Any excuse to whisper in your sweetheart's ear and have some peace, I suppose_.' He chuckled to himself and hunted down his and Flint's dinner plates.

Silver had his hands full, so he pushed the doors of his and Flint's cabin open with his backside. He entered carefully as not to spill their food. Flint watched him as he precariously balanced the plates, smile on his face.

Silver glanced at him and couldn't help but smile back. "Dinner is served," he announced.

Flint straightened up in bed as Silver deposited a plate in his lap. "You didn't tamper with this, right?" Flint glanced sideways at his Quartermaster playfully.  Silver pinched Flint's thigh as he sat down beside him in the bed.

"Ow!" Flint yelled exaggeratedly, "I'm an injured man, you heathen!" 

A bark of laughter escaped Silver's lips. "I can take it back to the kitchen if you're going to be an ass," Silver warned.

Flint immediately dug into his food. "Thank you," he mumbled with a mouthful of potatoes.

Silver laughed. "You should really thank Ben Gunn. Billy said he was the one who saved us dinner."

Flint's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Really," he asked, intrigued.

"Oh, if you like that, you'll love this," Silver set his utensils down, ready to begin his tale.

"You're a horrible gossip," Flint shook his head in disbelief.

Silver ignored his Captain and continued on. "Billy and Ben seem to be _involved_. It seemed like they were _flirting_ in the dining quarters," he said scandalously.

"Well," Flint said thoughtfully, "Dinning together _can be_ an intimate experience."

Silver chuckled lightly, taking in his present situation, dining with his Captain in their bed.

"In fact," Flint began again, "I seem to remember a time when everyone else despised me. But you. You took your meals with me while we whispered our clandestine plans to win the crew back and I flirted with you."

Silver spit water into his cup. "You were _flirting_ with me then?"

"I was a little out of practice."

"And where did watching the crew pummel me senseless fit into your flirtations?"

Flint's lips quirked up slyly. "That was just a bonus, for all the shit you caused me."

Silver flicked bread crumbs at Flint, a wide grin on his face. Flint laughed loudly, but then doubled over wincing when his stitches pulled painfully.

Instantly, Silver grew serious. "Are you all right?" Flint nodded sharply.

"We should probably clean that now anyway," Silver pointed at the wound.

Before the Captain could protest, Silver grabbed their empty plates and took them to the desk where the medical supplies sat in the corner. He scooped the various jars and cloths and made his way back to the bed. The mood was more somber now, Silver's unease was palpable. The Quartermaster ghosted his fingers over Flint's fresh stitches.

"It'll be fine. Not the first time I've had stitches," Flint reassured.

"First time I've ever tended to them," Silver countered seriously.

Flint sighed deeply. "Enough guilt. I told you. This wasn't your fault. Now be a good nursemaid and dote on me in my time of convalescence." A cheeky grin crept across Flint's face.

Silver licked his lips, flustered. He looked at Flint through his lashes and nodded once, small smile on his lips. Carefully, he began to clean the wound, watching Flint's face for any signs of pain. Flint merely stared back, peaceful look in his green eyes. Silver made quick work of the salves and then leaned forward to peck Flint on the lips. Flint reached up and wound his fingers into Silver's curls, pulling him closer. Silver parted his lips, deepening the kiss eagerly. He pulled away quickly though when Flint tried to pull him into his lap.

"I don't want to hurt you," Silver all but whimpered.

Flint closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. "I'm not some fragile porcelain doll," he groused.

"Could have fooled me, you're so pale," Silver teased.

Flint flicked him in the ear. "Seriously, I'm fine."

Silver looked down at the wound on the Captain's chest. "You _just_ received the stitches. For my peace of mind, let yourself rest. For one night at least."

Flint smiled softly. "I guess, for you, I could rest at least one night." The Captain took his Quartermaster's hand in his own, lacing their fingers together.

"I promise, Captain, I'll positively _wreck_ you when you're better," Silver whispered mischievously.

"I'll hold you to that," Flint whispered back.

Silver curled up contentedly beside his Captain, thankful to be able to sleep next to him another night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flint sat back against his pillows and groaned. Silver began hobbling back over to the bed and gestured at Flint's shirt. The Captain hastily pulled it over his head and tossed it at his Quartermaster. It hit Silver square in the face. He smirked wickedly at Flint and continued to the bed.

Two days had passed since Flint had been shot in Kingstown. Two long and stressful days of worry for Silver, and frustrating ones for Flint. The Captain was quite tired of being confined to his bed, as if he was some delicate piece of China. Silver was incredibly worried about his Captain's health, though, and so he had insisted upon the bed rest.

Early morning light poured through the large windows of the Captain's quarters, spilling sunshine into every corner. Silver awoke to Flint's hands ghosting up his bare sides. He rolled over slowly to face his Captain. Here, in the silence of their room with soft sunlight blanketing his face, Flint looked almost relaxed. His light green eyes and copper beard looked so soft and welcoming. Silver stretched out like a cat, boneless, and smiled warmly at Flint. "You certainly _look_ better today," he purred to Flint.

Flint hummed contentedly at Silver and brushed his hands up to Silver's face. "What can I say, you've taken good care of me," he whispered. 

Silver ran his hands over Flint's close-cropped hair. "I try," he laughed lightly.

"Perhaps," Flint said casually as he threaded his fingers through Silver's hair, "I could leave this bed today. Resume my duties as the Captain of this crew."

Silver shut his eyes and sighed. "I don't think you're ready just yet. Besides, I still need to clean the wound today. I think you should continue to rest for the time being."

Flint groaned in exasperation. His hand slipped from Silver's hair into his own lap. "You can't keep me locked up in here just because you received a reminder of my mortality."

Silver crawled out of bed quickly, ignoring his pants lying on the floor and his moody Captain. He pushed his hair out of his face and made his way to the desk where various medical salves sat. "Let me clean the wound and inspect it and we'll go from there," he said tensely.

Flint sat back against his pillows and groaned. Silver began hobbling back over to the bed and gestured at Flint's shirt. The Captain hastily pulled it over his head and tossed it at his Quartermaster. It hit Silver square in the face. He smirked wickedly at Flint and continued to the bed.

Slowly, Silver traced his fingers over the stitches on Flint's chest. The wound seemed to be healing just fine. Silver could see no signs of infection trying to take root. He dipped two fingers into the jar of salve and began coating the stitches in it. 

Flint looked down at his chest when Silver finished up. "It looks fine to me," he observed smartly. 

Silver set the jar of salve down on the floor and swept his eyes over Flint's torso. The soft dusting of freckles suddenly interrupted by the violence of a bullet made Silver's gut knot all over again. He laid his hand out flat against Flint's stomach. 

"What if you strain yourself? What if you pull the damn stitches? Or get it infected?" a sad, dark shadow fell over Silver's face.

Flint reached down and laced his and Silver's fingers together atop his stomach. "I know you're worried. I know you have had your own experience with wounds and stitches and infection. But I assure you, I _will_ be fine. I promise you I will know my limits and rest when I need to."

Silver stared into those sea foam green eyes, searching for any untruths. Try as he might, he couldn't find any. He reached up with his free hand and caressed Flint's jaw."I don't want you to go through the pain I've gone through," he whispered.

Flint leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to Silver's forehead. "You've been working like a fucking madman taking care of me _and_ being the Quartermaster to this crew for days now. And I know you're tired. In pain. I don't like to see you that way either. Let me get back out there. Let us shoulder the responsibilities of this ship together again."

Silver hummed low in his throat as he mulled over the Captain's words. Suddenly, he reached down and grabbed the sheets around Flint's bare waist. "If this is indeed the last morning we are going to be spending in this bed, peacefully, you should at least allow me to enjoy it," he grinned mischievously at Flint. 

"I thought you were worried about hurting me," Flint chuckled.

"Lie back," Silver murmured as he pressed lightly at the Captain's shoulder. 

Flint did as he was told, and Silver peppered kisses up his neck, over his cheek. Finally, he met the man's lips and lingered there. Flint moaned and opened his mouth, allowing Silver to deepen the kiss. Silver slowly let his tongue explore Flint's mouth and let out a groan of his own. Flint reached up to pull Silver closer, but he leaned back and shook his head.

"Let me continue to take care of you, Captain," Silver whispered through kiss-swollen lips. 

Flint drew in a stuttered breath. Hearing Silver call him 'Captain' when they were in bed stirred Flint's blood and Silver knew it. Flint ran his fingers through Silver's curls once and stared at his parted lips. "Help yourself," he smirked as he kicked the sheets fully from his lap.

Silver leaned forward and kissed Flint's chest, just above the wound. Slowly, he made his way down Flint's freckled torso. Nipping at his side lightly, licking down to where coarse hairs trailed from his navel to his groin. Flint was already half-hard for him. Silver stopped a moment to nuzzle his face in those coarse copper hairs, placing open-mouthed kisses there while he lingered.

Flint moaned loudly and carded his fingers through Silver's hair, hands coming to rest at the base of Silver's skull. Silver kissed lower and lower, farther down that trail of hair. He could feel the heat of the Captain's cock pressing into his chest, fully hard now. He looked up through his lashes at Flint and pulled himself back up the man a bit. "You're astonishing to behold like this," he breathed over Flint's navel.

The Captain sucked in a sharp breath. Silver slipped down the bed farther again and took Flint in his hand, squeezing gently at the base of him. Flint's eyes fluttered closed and his mouth fell open. He was so relaxed and yet present in the moment. Silver stared up at him for a moment, wishing he could capture the Captain in this state forever.

With a private smile, Silver brought Flint's cock to his lips. He sucked gently at the tip. Flint's hands bunched in Silver's hair and he gasped loudly. "My god, yes, this is fucking perfect. You're fucking perfect," he moaned.

Silver removed Flint from his mouth and licked from the base of his cock to the head. Flint breathed heavily and Silver began sucking at the tip again, sliding his hands up Flint's thighs. He gripped at Flint's hips and took more of him into his mouth, moving his tongue along the underside of Flint's shaft.

Flint opened his eyes in time to see Silver looking up at him, cheeks hollowed, lips red and swollen. "You're so beautiful," he whispered.

Silver hummed around Flint's cock and the man's hips bucked. He pulled Flint from his mouth with a quiet pop. "Are you close, Captain?" he murmured as he help the tip of Flint's cock to his lips. 

Flint nodded and delicately directed Silver's head back down to his groin, silently begging for more. Silver opened his mouth once more and nearly took Flint's entire length in, swallowing around the girth of it. Flint's hips bucked quickly. Silver hummed long and low again, enjoying the sensation of his Captain in his mouth, his own cock achingly hard and leaking between his legs.

Once more, he slid Flint's cock from his mouth until he was only sucking at the head and began stroking his shaft steadily with his hand. A strangled moan tore itself through Flint. Silver began stroking faster. "John, fuck, I'm going to finish," Flint choked out.

Silver flicked the tip of Flint's cock with his tongue. Finally, Flint found his release. Warmth spread from his chest to his toes, static rushed through his ears. He spilled into Silver's mouth and the Quartermaster moaned, swallowing down his release hungrily.

Once he had licked Flint clean, Silver sat up and began stroking his own cock feverishly. Flint reached out and stilled his hand. "Please, let me. Let me do this for you," he begged as he wrapped his fingers around Silver's cock lightly.

"Shit, yes," Silver panted. Flint took him firmly in his hand and tugged at his cock. Soft praises of the Quartermaster's beauty spilled from his lips. Silver's breath came quicker and he could feel tension building in his belly. "Fuck, yes, a little rougher," he gasped. 

Flint hummed and gave Silver what he wanted, stroking the man harder. A short, surprised moan came from Silver as he spilled his own release over Flint's fingers. Silver stared at Flint, panting hard, and watched as he sucked and licked his fingers clean.

"Jesus. Perhaps you are ready to resume your Captaincy. Even if I'll miss you being in bed all day," Silver said leaning back, still partially in a daze.

"You were a _very_ good nurse maid. All credit goes to you," Flint huffed a quiet laugh.

Silver laughed and laid back down next to Flint in their bed. "Stay here for a while at least?" he asked as he rubbed his hands over the fine hairs on Flint's abdomen.

Flint laughed and trailed his fingers down Silver's shoulder. "I couldn't get out of this bed right now if I wanted to. I don't think anyone will question it if we sleep late."

Silver kissed Flint lightly on the lips and made himself comfortable in the Captain's arms. "Perfect," he mumbled as they lazily drifted off to sleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there it is...  
> I'm still not 100% comfortable writing smut (lol I never will be) so? I hope this is not as terrible as I fear it is.
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://imwritesometimes.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even really know what this is? It just... became a thing that wrote itself very late at night and then sat in a folder for a while until I gained the courage to post it? I am possibly toying with a follow-up chapter that absolutely no one asked for but hey, it won't leave my brain alone?
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://imwritesometimes.tumblr.com/)


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